Retrograde
by TheInkSlingerHD
Summary: My name is Liliana Kowalski, affectionately known as Lily, daughter of Bullworth Academy graduate Peter Kowalski, and I'm here at this breeding ground for oppression for one reason only- to uncover its secrets and mysteries. [Next Generation]


**Hello, valued readers! Welcome to Chapter 1 of my newest story. I was restless, and I really got to thinking of writing a Bully fic when this idea just came to me.**

 **This story is NextGen, so all students will be new. Some teachers will stay, however.** **Feel free to send me a message or a review if there are any kids that you want to see from your favorite Bully characters! I'm open to suggestion, and I'd love to hear what you guys think.**

 **In this chapter, we meet our protagonist, Liliana "Lily" Kowalski, the daughter of our favorite shy Head Boy.**

 **I have no idea how long this will be, or how frequent updates will be, as I've got three stories now to be updating, but expect me to put a lot of love in this one, as Bully has and always will be my favorite fandom.**

 **Please leave reviews, favorites, and follows! They're very much appreciated and help me get these chapters out faster for your reading pleasure.**

 **Enjoy!**

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In all of my 16 years and 20 days on the Earth, I never imagined I would be visiting the place that gave my father nightmares well into his forties. Standing before the imposing iron gates, I was beginning to doubt the courage I'd built up over the past few months, since the day I convinced my father to let me finish the last two years of my high school career here- Bullworth Academy.

My name is Liliana Kowalski, affectionately known as Lily, daughter of Bullworth Academy graduate Peter Kowalski, and I'm here at this breeding ground for oppression for one reason only- to uncover its secrets and mysteries.

By nature, I was always a very curious person, but that wasn't my only reason for grabbing the bull by the horns (literally) and coming here. I longed to be a journalist for the rest of my life, and I knew this would be the perfect expose that could get me into the college of my dreams. The task seemed so simple when I had pondered it at home, but now, I wasn't too sure.

Before coming here, my dad had needed a lot of convincing. While he was never an extroverted person, he had confided in me a few times at the things he'd witnessed and experienced at that school. For years, I listened carefully, turning the ideas over in my head several times. How could bullying run rampant in a school like it did? At my school, or old school, I should say, bullying wasn't tolerated at all, and the teachers were always very vigilant. It seemed that Bullworth Academy was years behind other schools, their methods medieval compared to the modern push for equality and progressiveness in schools nowadays.

Dad had informed me that most of his classmates had moved away, but some still stuck around, whether they were presented with the same economic opportunities their families had in Bullworth or if they just couldn't get out of the town. My dad had moved about four hours away from the state itself, and about nine hours away from Bullworth. He was the owner of a furniture store and he made decent money. He met my mom, Sheila, when she came in looking for a sofa. She bought it thanks to his help, and that sofa now sits in our living room, or so the story goes.

Our house was relatively normal for the American middle class family. We lived in a safe, quaint subdivision in a small town called Plainsville, our two-story house almost identical to most if not all of the houses surrounding it. My parents drove cars normal for our income, and my little brother, Jacob was involved in boy scouts and sports teams designed for younger kids.

As for me, I was involved in almost every single club I could be in at school. My grades were always almost perfect, and I was the president of my class. My class was relatively small compared to the others at our high school, so being valedictorian was an easy goal for me. It seemed like I had my life all together, so many people were curious as to why I was moving away from it all to go to some school that was supposedly the worst in the country.

Every time I was proposed this question, I gave them the same answer. You see, I was ambitious by every definition of the word, and I just wasn't satisfied with my life. Sure, it was great, but it was too safe, too unexciting. I was born for a life of crime busting and documenting the evils of the world, and I just wasn't getting it in Plainsville. There weren't enough challenges to push me, and I felt like I would retrogress if I stayed here any longer.

On the day before I was due to leave, my closest friends had thrown me a going away party. For the most part, they understood why I was leaving, even if they didn't like it. In my friends circle, there was five of us. Myself, my best friend, Avery Wilkes, James Pettin, Mallory Almon, and Valerie Mars. We were very close, and known as the 'outcasts' of our high school because our interests were unconventional compared to most.

For one, none of us were on sports teams except myself and Avery. We were on a competitive dance team, but other than that, we weren't very athletic. James was gay, so naturally, he was ostracized by the 'popular' guys. I remembered the day he had come out. It was 6th grade, and I'll never forget the immediate laughing that came from the guys. James had cried, and bravely, Avery, Mallory, Valerie, and myself went over to comfort him. Before this, he had been part of the popular crowd. Many girls speculated that he was one of the most attractive guys to ever attend Plainsville High School, myself included. However, he couldn't keep living the lie, forcing to keep his real self strangled in the dark parts of himself.

To me, the pecking order of my school was relatively stupid, and hazing was limited because they really couldn't do too much to us. The repercussions at our school, for the most part, were much more severe than the pleasure of bullying someone. It still happened, though, and there was a very narrow vision of who was to be accepted and who was to be shunned.

As for Mallory and Valerie, they were both black, and as much as I detest racism, they were literally the only two in our entire school that weren't white. Of course, something as petty and small as race didn't affect my opinion of someone at all. Mal and Val were both great, and two of the sweetest people I'd ever met with great families, despite what everyone says. There was even a rumor going around that Val's mom was a prostitute and her dad was a pimp/drug dealer. Those rumors were dispelled quickly when they saw Mr. Mars drive up in a Benz with a sweater vest. Barry Mars was practically my second dad now.

After all these years, I could never figure out why Avery wasn't popular, however. She was pretty, probably one of the prettiest girls in the entire school. She was sweet, polite, did well in school, and the popular kids didn't seem to hate her. I was surprised on the day in first grade when she actually talked to me. Even at that young age, I'd gathered how the social system worked, and truthfully, I didn't want to be 'at the top'. Figuring Avery just wanted some entertainment, I put my early-found dry humor to work and within minutes, we were best friends, just like that.

I had to admit that leaving my friends was the hardest thing I'd ever had to do, but I couldn't let it get in the way of the way I wanted to live my life. Avery and James had cried when I'd told them, and it had truthfully broken my heart. After all these years, I'd been declared as the de facto leader of our little group, and separation was not going to be easy, but I told them they would forget all about me as soon as the school year started. Secretly, I wished this wasn't going to be true.

The night of the party was relatively calm, only my group and some stragglers who I was on friendly terms with showed up, thankfully. For the majority of the time, we sat around and talked, ate snacks, and drank alcoholic drinks, unbeknownst to my parents. Yes, I did have a rebellious streak sometimes.

Avery had stayed the night, and the next morning, she helped me pack my suitcase, sniffling the whole time. For a period of time, I'd even tried to convince her to come with me to Bullworth. The presence of a friend would make the time so much more bearable, but her parents wouldn't hear any of it. They wanted her to stay in Plainsville for the rest of her life and run the family pharmacy, but I knew that she secretly wanted to be a real estate agent in Chicago.

After packing, Avery and I hugged for a good two minutes. Her blonde hair was soft to the touch as I ran my fingers through it. I was always jealous of her, truthfully. I wished I was a little more reserved, not so loud, and sweeter. I was dry, cynical, and my hair was never as perfect as hers. My hair was unruly, dark black, and brushed the small of my back. Stubbornly, I hated my hair short because I was already short and skinny enough, standing at 5'2 and 115 pounds. In my own mind, having thick, long hair added some substance to me.

Avery and I were practically polar opposites when it came to our appearances, I realized as we hugged for the last time for, potentially, a few months. She was about 5'7 with skin that tanned just the right amount, so unlike me. For all months of the year, I was a sickly pale color, even in the summer months. I didn't tan, I burned. Her pale blonde hair was dyed, but you couldn't tell, as she was always religious about getting her roots done regularly. She was a healthy weight, not too skinny and surely not overweight. Her light blue eyes were the envy of most people, especially me with my dull brown. Her eyebrows were thin and the perfect shape, while mine were thick and required upkeep from time to time.

Actually, when Avery and I had fights, it was typically because of a fit of jealousy. I was competitive and a perfectionist, and I hated being beaten at anything, especially academics, writing, and dancing. While Avery couldn't hold a candle to my academics and writing, she was, although I bitterly admit, a beautiful dancer. It was her, interestingly enough, who was newer to the sport than I was. I had talked her into joining when I heard her parents complain that she wasn't involved in enough, so low and behold, she joined my team within weeks, even without having the same technical training as me.

Reflecting on all of these thoughts as we held each other in a tight embrace, I realized I was just looking for excuses not to miss her, but I knew I would, regardless of how negative I was trying to be. When our hug was finally over, she gave me a quick kiss on the cheek, and just like that, she was gone. I wondered when I would see her again.

As I stood before the gates of Bullworth, I was brought back to reality as a woman wearing dreadfully out-of-date clothes made her appearance. She had brown hair streaked with grays, and her high heels seemed to make her impossibly tall and imposing, almost like a scarecrow. From all of my dad's talks of his past at Bullworth, I knew this woman must have been Ms. Danvers.

"Oh, Mr. Kowalski, it is so nice to see you again. How have you been?" The woman spoke to me father, completely disregarding me. The action sent a quick flare of anger racing down my spine. I could tell already that keeping my temper intact was going to be rough, thanks to my mother's Italian genes.

Dad answered shyly, like he always did when socially confronted by someone. We were very different in that aspect. I was forthright and concise. Intimidation was not something I felt usually, and social situations never made me feel shy or awkward. For a few moments, Ms. Danvers and my dad carried on an awkward conversation until she finally clapped her hands together.

"Oh, would you look at the time? I'm afraid we must get going. I hate keeping Dr. Crabblesnitch waiting. Come along now," her last sentence was harsh and directed at me. I barely had time to wish my family goodbye before I was being dragged along by Ms. Danvers, my suitcases and bags heavy and awkward as I carried them by myself.

I sensed an immediate change in the woman's disposition as we entered the campus. A man dressed in blue came to collect my bags, stating that I would find them in my dorm room. I could only assume that hopefully, this dorm room was in the Girls' Dorm, but you never know. This school is already sketchy from things I'd heard about it.

As we made our way to the main building, my short legs struggling to keep up with the massive stride of the woman in front of me, there were several names called, at me, Ms. Danvers, and other students. It was the first day and people were already degrading each other. There was even a fist fight right by the staircases that Ms. Danvers paid no mind to. Lovely.

Once inside the school, I was surprised to see that the floor was previously shined. The first plus that I could put on my mental checklist for this place. Dad had purposely dropped me off around lunchtime so I would have time to get settled in before my first class at the new school that I had been so eager to come to. I was beginning to regret my decision now.

Ascending the staircase to the second level, I nearly dodged a rather large boy running full speed down the corridor, a man in a blue suit hot on his tail, the same kind of suit that was worn by the man who had taken my bags. I assumed they were teachers of some sort, but now I wasn't so sure. Security, maybe?

Walking into the office, there were two old chairs to my right, both occupied by two little kids holding their heads, tears streaming down their little faces. Instantly, I was reminded of when Jacob had twisted his ankle one time at a soccer game. A stab of pity sharply panged my heart.

Attached to the office was an additional room, presumably the headmaster's office. The door was closed behind me as Ms. Danvers escorted me inside, pushing me forward not too kindly to the chairs that faced an impressive desk. I took my seat, trying to ignore the various memorabilia decorating the walls, especially the large buffalo head over the lit fireplace.

Before me was a man who looked well into his sixties, maybe even seventies. His hair was nearly all white,and his face was wrinkled with the obvious signs of stress and smoking. Right at this moment, a cigar was dangling loosely from his lips. I observed that at one point, this man might have been handsome.

"Here she is, Dr. Crabblesnitch," Ms. Danvers spoke up after a few minutes of awkward silence, the man known as Dr. Crabblesnitch looking over some piece of paper. Her voice was a soft, seductive purr and instantly my stomach flipped. Oh gross, they were totally doing each other.

Once she was acknowledged, she finally left, although hesitantly so, almost as if waiting for him to say something more to her, but he didn't. Instead, he turned his attention to me, his voice deep and professional, despite the obvious relations with one of his staff.

"So, Liliana Kowalski. It is a pleasure to have you here. We have high expectations for you. Your grades are impressive, as were your father's. We expect..." I began to zone out as he rambled on about school conduct, code, and ended with, yet again, how perfect my father had been and how I was to act the same way.

Maybe it was just my cynical nature coming back to me, but I began to doubt him. Obviously, the disciplinary actions couldn't be too bad here. After all, fight club was in session on the first day. What was the worst that could happen to me? I'd never gotten in trouble, and I probably seemed like an angel compared to the rest of these crazy kids.

After my orientation, I was dismissed to get changed into a uniform. He explained it was already in my room and that my dorm number was 102, as well as providing me with a schedule in a laminated sleeve. I thanked him as politely as I could muster, garnering a smile from him. I ignored the chills that ran down my spine as he did.

Ignoring the cat calls I received from most of the male student body, I made my way over to the large pink building that said Girls' Dorm on it in big gold letters. Pushing open the navy doors, I was met with the smell of cheap perfume and fermenting lipstick. I had to really try not to gag. The pink wallpaper was peeling in some places, and the common room had only one small, broken down TV for us to use. I made the speculation that I wouldn't be spending too much time there.

Seeing as all of the rooms on the downstairs started with a 0, I made my way upstairs, and sure enough, the rooms began with a 1. I found my room on the right. It was the second door and to my surprise, there was already someone in there, looking through my luggage. Just like that, my fuse had been lit, and I was pissed off.

"Just what the hell do you think you're doing?" I demanded, the girl before me turning slowly, her lips in a smirk.

The first thing I noticed was that she was tall, probably Avery's height, or maybe even taller. The second thing I noticed was that she was dressed in all black. She had tight, form-fitting black jeans on that hugged her legs, two rips at the knees. Black boots that came up to her ankles were on her feet, as well as dark grey socks that were tucked over the tops of the boots. On top, she wore a black crop top, her toned stomach out for view. Over that, she had a black leather jacket on. Her face was just as perfect as her flawless body, her skin clear and olive, freckles here and there. Her hair rivalled mine, with its visible thickness and length. It was even the same color. Her eyes, however, were a light green, and her thick, red lips were pulled in a smirk.

"Just seein' what kind of person you were," her voice was nonchalant, and she had a strange accent. Maybe New Jersey?

"Well, I'd appreciate if you didn't do that, thank you," I marched over as furiously as I could manage, ripping my bra out of her hands. Her face was amused and that just made me even more upset. What the hell kind of school was this?

Stuffing everything back where it belonged in my suitcase, I heard the creak and groan of old springs and turned to see that the girl was sitting on her bed, supposedly. She arched a dark brow at me before speaking again. "Name's Louisa Vincent, but you can call me Lou."

I considered retorting back with an acerbic remark, but I contained myself. "I'm Liliana Kowalski, but you can call me Lily. Oh, and please stay out of my stuff," I finished with a fake smile and an over-enthusiastic tone.

"Woah, wait, did you say Kowalski?" She perked up, sitting straight up on the bed, the springs creaking again.

"Yes, why?" I asked, obviously impatient.

"Oh, nothing. It's just that people have been talking about you for a while," and just like that, her cool demeanor was back and I was starting to get frustrated again.

"You can't seem all that interested and then extinguish yourself. It's a bad social skill," I said pointedly, sitting down on the inch of my bed that wasn't covered with the things I'd since given up on putting away.

"A bad social skill, eh? Well, that's just too bad. I ain't really ever been that good at socializin' anyway, buttercup," she countered back, a challenging look in her.

She was testing me, waiting to see if I would snap or say another thing to get her going. "That's obvious," I spat back, a small laugh coming from me.

Lou looked like she was about to say something just as salty back, and I leaned forward, putting my elbows on my knees and raising a brow. Oh, how I would love to hear what she has to say.

"I like you, Lily. You ain't too bad," she finally said, a smile coming onto her lips.

And just like that, I had made my first friend. Perhaps surviving wasn't going to be as bad as I thought. How I was wrong.

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 **So, what did you think? And yes, Lou is Johnny Vincent's daughter. We will be getting more backstory on her soon! Because honestly, I just love her. Let me know thoughts and opinions in a review or message.**


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